


Good Boy

by Cap_D, DyslexicSquirrel



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Age Difference, Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Daddy Kink, Explicit Sexual Content, Jewish Bucky Barnes, M/M, Omega Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:49:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28850871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cap_D/pseuds/Cap_D, https://archiveofourown.org/users/DyslexicSquirrel/pseuds/DyslexicSquirrel
Summary: Bucky wasn’t looking for a sugar daddy when he started his college internship. It just kind of happened. He didn’t think he wanted one, either, but he was finding out all kinds of things about himself lately.Steve wasn’t looking for a relationship. He definitely didn’t set out to date one of his companies interns, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Bucky and wondering how much of agood boyhe could be.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 90
Kudos: 436
Collections: Marvel Reverse Big Bang 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to my Marvel Reverse Big Bang fic!
> 
> The art that inspired this by the insanely talented Cap_D is truly beautiful. You can find Cap on Twitter and tumblr
> 
> The completed fic will be posted in it’s entirety by 1/31/21.
> 
> Enjoy!

“You need an assistant. This isn’t a start up in your garage anymore,” Natasha said, breezing into his office without knocking like she always did.

Steve looked up from his computer with fond exasperation. “No, I don’t. And hello to you, too.” 

Natasha slipped her heels off before taking a seat on his couch next to a garment bag folded over the back which he eyed dubiously. Legs folded under her and arms across her chest, she gave Steve a once over. “Stand up.” 

Sighing, knowing how arguing with her would be futile, Steve pushed back from his desk and rose to his feet, brows raised expectantly. 

“You’re hopeless,” the other alpha said with an eye roll. Natasha tipped her head toward the garment bag. “You’re going to want to put that on before your meeting.” 

Feeling defensive, Steve asked, “What’s wrong with my suit?” 

“Do you want people to take you seriously?”

“Of course, I do.” Steve’s shrug asked  _ What does one have to do with the other? _

“You’re meeting with lobbyists, Steve,” her words dripping patience, like she was speaking to a child, “these people respect power.” 

“Running a successful green energy company that I made turn a profit in less than five years isn’t enough?” 

“No,” Natasha said without missing a beat and Steve felt his shoulders slump. His friend had never been one to sugar coat things, one of the reasons she made such a good lawyer. Natasha was also good at projecting confidence and authority without being overbearing the way some alphas were. 

Resigned, he held out his hand. “Give me the bag.” 

Natasha had the good grace not to smirk. At least while he was looking. They talked while Steve stripped out of his suit: her asking what he wanted for lunch, him asking how Sharon was doing. “Well, no one’s died, so all in all, she’s doing well.” 

Steve shot her a disapproving look over his shoulder, fastening the button on the pants of the blue pinstripe suit Natasha had brought him. The pants were cut a lot slimmer than he was used to, but they fit like a glove. Of course she knew his sizes without having to ask. “That’s not funny.” 

“Really? I thought it was hilarious,” she deadpanned. 

Steve shook his head and reached for the crisp, white button down, shrugging it on, followed by the jacket. Natasha’s mate, Sharon, was a Secret Service agent currently assigned to the president. Turning to face her, hands propped on his hips, Steve couldn’t keep the lecturing tone out of his voice when he said, “Presidential assassination isn’t a laughing matter.” 

A choking noise to his right had him glancing toward the door. The door he had honestly forgotten was open. Where one of the new crop of interns stood—or at least Steve  _ assumed _ he was one of the new interns given how young he looked and the fact that Steve didn’t recognize him. 

_ I would have remembered him _ , Steve found himself thinking out of nowhere. Slight build; average height; long, dark hair swept up in a messy bun; dark blue button down with the sleeves rolled up over his forearms and khaki pants, cuffs stopped just above his ankles. He was wearing Converse and Steve had to smile at that. 

The omega’s mouth hung open, blue-grey eyes wide as he stared at Steve. Envelopes laid scattered at his feet and the cup of coffee in his hand was about three seconds away from slipping from his grasp. 

“Steve?” He pulled his focus back to Natasha with some reluctance. She had one arm lying across the back of the couch, red painted lips curled up in a Cheshire Cat grin. “Put your abs away before you give the kid a heart attack.” 

Steve blinked at her in incomprehension for a split second before he remembered that his  _ shirt was open  _ in front of  _ an intern _ . It was a goddamn lawsuit waiting to happen. 

Muttering a curse, Steve spun away, snapping over his shoulder when he heard Natasha snort, “So glad you’re finding this amusing.” 

“I have to get my joy somewhere.”

Once his shirt was done up and tucked into his pants, he let out a long breath and ran a hand across his beard. Only upside was that the blinds were closed and he hadn’t given the office building next door a show. 

The omega was still standing in exactly the same spot. Time to bite the bullet. “Sorry about that. That was… inappropriate. Things like that don’t normally happen.” 

That seemed to snap the guy out of his stupor. “Oh, fuck. I- I mean, sorry. That’s your mail,” he said somewhat forlornly, looking at the envelopes spread out on the floor around him then held the mug aloft, “and your coffee. Coulson asked me to drop them off. I didn’t realize you were… busy.” 

The way the omega said  _ busy _ , eyes darting between him and Natasha, had a furrow forming between Steve’s brows. He opened his mouth to apologize again or, hell, he didn’t know — something. Except the omega snapped out of his stupor and Steve had never seen anyone move so fast in his life.

Steve watched him crouch down to gather up the scattered mail one handed, managing to not spill even a drop of coffee from the mug despite his frantic movements, and rush forward to deposit everything on Steve’s desk. “I’m just,” he backed up, gesturing with his hands as he spoke, and tripped over his feet, “gonna - I’m leaving. Sorry again.” 

He stepped out into the hall. Steve turned to Natasha, a question on the tip of his tongue, but the omega’s head peeked around the door frame. “Please, don’t fire me,” he said and disappeared again. 

“That was painful to watch.” 

“Huh?” he asked Natasha, distracted, hoping for another glimpse of dark hair and stormy eyes. Steve shook his head, clearing the cobwebs, and turned back to Natasha. “What?”

“Never mind. You have other things you need to focus on.” One crimson tipped finger flicked at the garment bag handing in his coat hook. “There’s a tie in there, too.” 

Steve pulled the red silk off the hanger and looped it around his neck, sitting back down while he tied it. Natasha pulled her phone from her bag and tapped at the screen. “Now what are we doing for lunch? I don’t have a lot of time before I have to make my already obscenely rich client more money.” 

Steve rolled his eyes and fixed his collar. “Pizza?” 

Natasha shook her head, but didn’t argue, and put in an order at their favorite pizza place. He went through his presentation while they waited. She wasn’t an expert on geothermal energy or wind turbines, but she knew how to orate and he appreciated the pointers. Trying to change the field for the way the entire nation got their power was a huge deal. Shield Energy was making strides, but Steve didn’t feel like he was doing enough — they needed to operate on a bigger scale. 

Steve walked Natasha to the elevator, bending down so she could press a kiss to his cheek, making him promise to set a date for dinner. “You can’t work 24/7. It’s not sustainable.” 

“Ha ha, very funny. We’ll do dinner. I promise.” 

“I’m holding you to that, Steve.” Before the doors closed, Natasha pinned him with a gaze. “Don’t make me sic Sharon on you.” 

He went back to his office to gather up everything for his presentation. This was huge. If he made the right connections with the right people who could whisper in the ears of those that could push for real change, there was a chance that maybe the planet wouldn’t be hurtling toward disaster so quickly. 

He hated playing the political games, but Steve would do what he had to. It wasn’t even about the money for him. Sure, it made life easier in a lot of ways he’d never had growing up with a working single mother, but he would still be doing all of this even if he was broke. 

As momentous as this meeting was, Steve found himself scanning the cubicles, trying to catch a glimpse of a certain intern, on his way to the elevator and down to the garage. He tried to convince himself he wasn’t disappointed when he didn’t. 

But Steve had always been a shitty liar. 

  
  


* * *

Despite being tired as all hell, Steve went back to the office after his meeting. He walked off the elevator with his jacket slung over one arm, tie loose, top button of his shirt undone, and his sleeves rolled up. Steve thought it had gone well. Vying for government contracts or backing reform bills had never been something he saw himself doing when he was an idealistic college kid. Hell, he had envisioned joining GreenPeace and saving the rainforests, he thought with a weary chuckle. His idealism was still alive and well, and Steve donated a lot of money so other people could save the rainforests, but he’d grown up. 

He wound his way through the cubicles to his office, rubbing at tired eyes. His stomach growling made him realize he hadn’t eaten since lunch and it was almost seven. Fighting through rush hour D.C. traffic to get from one end of the city to the other had taken a good hour of stop and go, circling one roundabout for twenty minutes alone until someone let him merge. He was contemplating ordering something and getting some more work done, since going home now would take half an hour anyway, when a lone light in the otherwise dark workspaces caught his eye. 

It wasn’t unusual for someone to still be here this late — someone besides him, that is. Steve practically lived at the office, keeping a change of clothes and toothbrush in his private bathroom, an extravagance he had begrudgingly indulged because… well, he had no life outside of work, to be honest. Springing for a couch he could comfortably stretch out across had made sense, too, so he didn’t have to sleep at his desk like he had in college. He wasn’t exactly eighteen anymore and the neck pain wasn’t worth it. 

But it  _ was  _ unusual for a Friday, since everyone else did have lives outside of work or so he assumed. Steve knew everyone who worked for him, but they were coworkers, not friends. The things he knew about their personal lives was embarrassingly little. He could just keep walking, leave whatever enterprising individual was burning the proverbial midnight oil to it, but his feet were changing direction before he had the conscious thought to do so. 

The scent diffusers in the building were shut off this time of night. Steve smelled him before he saw messy brown locks on top of a bent head over the cubicle wall, shuffling papers around. Peach tea, warm and sweet. He could almost taste it, lingering at the back of his throat. Steve shook the thought away and propped his elbow on top of the partition. “You’re here late.” 

The omega startled, scattering freshly stacked papers across the desk’s surface and Steve winced. Wide eyes, smokey in the low light, jerked up. “Yeah, I — uh,” he huffed a laugh, eyes dipping down, “I’m sucking up to the boss?” 

Steve smiled, charmed by this young man. He was obviously trying to make a good impression. Steve didn’t want to discourage him from working hard, but he was in his twenties — he should be out having fun, going to clubs or parties or whatever people his age did these days. “Don’t let Phil scare you. He’s all bark and no bite.” 

“Right. Mr. Coulson,” the omega murmured, bottom lip disappearing between his teeth. He looked at his hands while he gathered up the printouts. The packets for Monday’s morning meeting, from the looks of it. Steve made a mental note to look into going paperless. They recycled everything, but it still seemed a huge waste. “What are you doing here? I thought you left. I mean, your office door was closed and the light was off,” he tacked on with a shrug and a peek from the corner of his eye. 

“Had a meeting,” Steve told him, holding up his briefcase. His nose twitched at the almost burnt tone to the omega’s scent, brows twitching down when he saw the slump to his shoulders. “Came back to finish up some work.” 

“Do that a lot? Would think your mate had a problem with you working so much.” 

He sounded as sour as he smelled and now Steve’s eyebrows went up, surprising a laugh from him. The omega finally looked back up at the sound. “They probably would if I had one.”

“You — I thought,” the omega said something a bit hopeful creeping into his eyes. Steve had been known to be a bit oblivious in the past, but now Natasha’s comment from earlier was starting to make sense. Steve felt… flattered and amused because the thought of him and  _ Natasha  _ being together was laughable. Then again, with the scene the omega had walked in on earlier, Steve could maybe understand the misconception. 

“Nat and I are just friends,” Steve said, subtly tilting his neck to show the unblemished skin beneath his open collar. His wrists were already uncovered and Steve had to pull in a deep calming breath when he felt blue gray eyes move across his skin like a caress. It would be so easy for Steve to take him up on the offer clearly written across the younger man’s face. 

It would be a bad idea — a very bad idea — to fraternize with an intern, but Steve was also loath to leave it like this and just walk away. He’s been on the other side of a crush on someone older, a certain college TA, with red lips and dark hair, came to mind, and Steve had to admit his curiosity was peaked. 

“Did you want to get dinner?” he heard himself say and, damnit, he hadn’t meant it the way it sounded. He could hear Natasha quip, “You’re hopeless, Rogers,” in the back of his mind. Straightening, Steve took a step back, but it didn’t help him escape the omega’s alluring scent or his even more alluring smile. How he managed to look innocent and sinful simultaneously, Steve had no idea, but fuck if part of him didn’t want to find out. 

Still, he was not —  _ was not _ — doing anything with an intern, except work and eating. 

Food. 

In the office. 

He backed up another step.  _ You’re almost forty and a goddamn professional, act like it,  _ he told himself. “I was gonna order something from Postmates, if you wanted to join me.” 

“Yeah, sure. Sounds awesome.” 

His smile took up half of his face and he was looking up at Steve from his seat with those eyes Steve thought he could drown in and it sent something fluttering through his stomach. Steve couldn’t remember the last time something had made him feel like that. Some _ one _ . Probably when he was the omega’s age, he thought with a mental groan.

The omega stood and started gathering the stacks of papers, pausing halfway through to glance at Steve over his shoulder. “Mind if I bring these with me?”

“That’s fine,” Steve said with a small shake of his head, taking a few more steps away while the omega gathered his messenger bag and his jacket — brown leather, worn around the seams. The piece of clothing fit him a lot better than the button down and slacks he wore.

They walked the short distance to Steve’s office, the younger man skipping to catch up to Steve’s longer stride until they were shoulder to shoulder. Steve saw a strand of hair slip from the band holding the omega’s hair up from the corner of his eye, the way it brushed his cheek, and his fingers twitched around the handle of his briefcase with the desire to brush it back. 

Steve cleared his throat and asked, “What’s your name by the way? I didn’t get a chance to ask earlier,” while he unlocked his door and pushed it open, hitting the light switch before moving aside for the omega to slide past him. He could have stepped back farther but he didn’t, instead letting their bodies brush together briefly. 

“It’s James,” the omega replied, standing in the middle of Steve’s office, papers clutched to his chest. He huffed a laugh, eyes falling away for a moment, lips pursing. “But, um, all my friends call me Bucky, so...” 

Steve paused with his hand on the back of his desk chair. Huh. Okay, then. He pulled out his phone and asked, “You in the mood for anything in particular, Bucky?” 

“Whatever you want is fine, Mr. Rogers.” 

Jesus Christ. The way he said that. Steve was rusty, but he was pretty damn sure Bucky was flirting with him. Steve liked it a lot more than he should and sat down before he did something stupid like  _ touch  _ Bucky. He cleared his throat. “Chinese okay?” 

“Sounds great.” Bucky sat in one of the chairs on the other side of the desk, letting his bag slide to the floor with a thump. He set out his stacks of paper on the desk, retrieved his box of paper clips, and started putting packets together.

Steve started adding things to the cart from his favorite place down the street. He always ordered too much food when he did Chinese, but he could never make up his mind. “I usually order about half the menu and have leftovers for three days, but if there’s anything you want in particular or don’t want to share, I can add something else.” 

“I’ll basically eat anything.” He put down the finished packet in the pile with the others and reached for something else in his bag. When Steve saw it was Bucky’s wallet he was shaking his head before Bucky even finished asking, “How much do I owe you?” 

“Your money’s no good here.” 

“Huh?” He looked at Steve with an expression of adorable confusion and those were two words Steve never thought he’d put together. 

“I remember what it was like being a college student. Lived in a two bedroom house with four other guys, worked two jobs, and still didn’t have two pennies to rub together half the time. I got it, don’t worry about it.” 

Bucky frowned and it was even cuter somehow. “If you’re sure…”

“I’m sure,” he insisted. 

“Okay,” Bucky said, smiling in obvious relief while he put his wallet away. “I feel you on the roommate thing, by the way. I only have two, but it’s a one bedroom apartment and I sleep on the couch since Darcy and Sam are dating and it was their place anyway and — you probably don’t care about any of this.” 

“No, it’s nice.” Steve relaxed in his chair and tossed his phone on the desk. It would be awhile before the food got there. He rubbed tiredly at his eyes, ran his palm across his beard. “Don’t get to talk about anything besides work most of the time.” 

“Sounds boring as hell,” Bucky said with a straight face and Steve snorted. 

“Yeah. Yeah, it kind of is. My friend that was here earlier keeps trying to get me to come over for dinner and I keep making excuses.” 

“Why?” Bucky asked in the same way someone might ask why you didn’t like ice cream. 

“Honestly?” Steve held up a hand and let it fall into his lap. “I don’t even know. I guess I spent so long getting the company off the ground that now that it’s successful and I could step back, I don’t know how to.” 

“Maybe you need to get laid,” Bucky muttered, half under his breath. The omega’s mouth fell open, like he hadn’t meant to say that, looking up with wide eyes. Their gaze met and held until Bucky blinked and looked away. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. You’re my boss, not my friend. You’re just really easy to talk to.” 

The last was delivered sheepishly with a peek up at Steve underneath dark lashes. His free hand curled into a fist to resist the urge to pat his lap for Bucky to sit in. Words he shouldn’t say got stuck in his throat, impulses he hadn’t let himself indulge in in more than a decade.  _ It’s okay, sweet boy. _ Steve cleared his throat and shrugged, dragging his eyes away from the all too tempting omega in front of him. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not work hours anyway. Dinner should be here in thirty minutes.” 

“Awesome.” Bucky didn’t sound like he thought it was awesome and Steve tried not to analyze that too much.

For a while the only sounds were the shuffling of paper and the click of a keyboard. The ringing of Steve’s office phone was loud and made him jump. He fumbled with the handset. “Hello?” 

“Hey, Mr. Rogers,” Carl, the night security guard, greeted in a chipper voice. The beta was a night owl if Steve had ever met one. “See you’re burning the midnight oil again. Got a food delivery down here for you.” 

“Thanks, I’ll be down in a minute to grab it.” Steve hung up and stood, studying Bucky while he slid his phone into his back pocket to tip the delivery person before they left. The omega’s bottom lip was wedged between his teeth, cheeks tinged pink. 

Steve paused by Bucky’s shoulder, tempted to give it a comforting squeeze. He decided against it and went to get the food with a lame, “I’ll be back in a sec.” 

* * *

Steve didn’t know how it happened exactly, but at some point he and Bucky ended up on the couch, containers of food spread across the coffee table. Bucky had his legs crossed, body wedged into the corner of the couch to face where Steve sprawled on the opposite end. Bucky commandeered the entire container of chicken lo mein for himself, making happy sounds while he slurped down noodles. It made Steve’s chest fill with warmth, providing for the omega filling a hole Steve hadn’t realized was there. 

“You played baseball in high school? No shit?” Bucky asked around a mouthful of egg roll. “So did I.”

He waited until he swallowed his dumpling before replying, “Yeah. First baseman.” 

“I was a pitcher. Was on my way to getting a scholarship for school, but I messed up my arm.” Bucky shrugged his left shoulder and ate another forkful of food. He smelled a bit sad, but he wasn’t bitter about the lost opportunity and Steve felt his admiration grow. The omega could have let the injury stop him in his tracks, but he’d rolled with the punches instead. He gave Steve a lopsided grin. “Luckily my coach never let us get away with letting our grades slip. We got anything less than a C, he made us run laps until we passed out.” 

“Sounds like my old coach,” Steve laughed. “Phillips was a hardass, but he got results. We won state all four years I was on the team.”

“Wait, wait.” Bucky’s eyes became wide pools of blue as he clambered to his knees, the takeout container abandoned on the table. His other hand landed on top of Steve’s forearm where it rested across the back of the couch. “Coach Phillips? The Colonel?”

“Yeah?” Steve drew out.

“You went to Brooklyn Prep? So do I!”

Steve nodded and shifted, bringing his knee up to face Bucky head on. His brow pulled down in incredulity. “Class of 2000. Go Bulldogs. Can’t believe Phillips is still there.” 

Chester Phillips had been a grizzled alpha when Steve went to that school, earning the nickname the Colonel from how he ran his baseball team like a military unit. What the hell were the chances that he and Bucky had so much in common? 

Bucky’s snort pulled him from his musings. “That old man is too stubborn to retire.” 

“Isn’t that the truth,” Steve agreed dryly. They were sitting closer than Steve remembered, Bucky still settled on his knees, side against the back of the couch, arm next to Steve’s along the top. His fingers were absently playing with the rolled up cuff of Steve’s shirt. To distract himself, he cleared his throat and asked, “Are you from Brooklyn?” 

When Bucky shook his head, a strand of hair hair fell free and Steve watched Bucky tuck it behind his ear. “Nah, moved there when I was twelve when my dad got a better job. I’m from Indiana, but I,” Bucky swallowed, eyes dipping to Steve’s lips for the span of a heartbeat, “lived there ‘til I moved to D.C. for college.”

“Hmm.” The room seemed smaller somehow, all the air filled with the smell of ripe peaches. 

“The rest of my family still lives there,” Bucky murmured. Had he moved closer? 

“Oh. That’s nice. I haven’t been home in a while. Been living in D.C. full time for years.”

“Maybe I can show you around. Show you everything that’s changed. If, ya know, we’re there at the same time.” 

He had  _ definitely  _ moved closer and Steve didn’t try to widen the gap between their bodies, feeling drunk off Bucky and the way the omega smelled, the way he was  _ looking _ at Steve, might have even leaned closer himself. 

“Yeah, maybe. Pretty sure a lot is different.” Because he hadn’t lived there in at least a decade and Bucky couldn’t be more than twenty-two and what the hell was he doing? 

“Maybe not that different,” Bucky said and something in his inflection had Steve’s eyes snapping to his. Bucky’s free hand landed high up on his thigh, eyes burning like blue fire into his own. He really was too beautiful for words. “Some things don’t change.”

Steve couldn’t be sure if he just let it happen or if he moved into it, but their lips met, warm and firm. Jesus Christ, Bucky was kissing him, he thought wildly, and then he was kissing Bucky back, swallowing the omega’s moan and pulling Bucky’s tongue into his mouth. It was perfect, his hands in Bucky’s hair, Bucky’s fingers digging into his thigh and his arm, pricks of almost pain amid the pleasure. 

It was crazy, though. And wasn’t this exactly what he said he wouldn’t do? Pulling away was harder than Steve thought it would be. “We can’t do this. Bucky, I’m…” 

Steve didn’t know where he was trying to go with that. _I’m sorry_ , maybe? Except that would have been a lie. _I’m_ _too old for you_. _I’m your boss_. Any number of other excuses flitted through his mind and died on his tongue. 

“Oh, fuck,” Bucky breathed, eyes clearing of the lust induced fog that clouded the moments ago. He jerked back like he’d been burned, the hand that had just been on Steve’s thigh wiping away the traces of their kiss and Steve had to bite back a growl. “Fuck.  _ Fuck _ .” 

“Bucky,” Steve ventured, trying to calm the omega down, but he stumbled off the couch and grabbed his bag and jacket before Steve got another word out. He was halfway to the elevator by the time Steve got himself in gear. 

“Bucky,” he called, weaving through cubicles. When the omega kept walking, he took a different approach. In a sterner voice, he said, “James.” 

Bucky halted in his tracks, close enough to the elevator he would only need to reach out his arm to press the button, but he didn’t. He stayed motionless when Steve came to a stop behind him, defeat in the set of his shoulders.  _ Good boy _ , he thought and didn’t say. 

Steve turned Bucky to face him and the omega’s eyes didn’t rise above Steve’s throat. He sighed. He was sending mixed messages, he knew that, but the bitter notes of sadness in the air broke his heart. Steve cupped Bucky’s cheek, stroking the downy softness with his thumb, and tipped Bucky’s head back until their gazes met. 

“It’s okay. But it can’t happen again. Do you understand why?” Bucky didn’t answer, eyes falling to the side. “Bucky.” 

“Yeah.” 

“I don’t want to say we should forget this,” he said, because Steve knew he would never be able to and he’d never been the type to hide his mistakes. Hands shoved in his pockets, Steve added, “But I don’t want this to affect your working here. Will you be okay?”

“Me?” Bucky asked in surprise. “Yeah. I’m fine, Mr. Rogers, if you are.” 

“Okay.” His smile felt strained. “Why don’t you head on home then? It’s late. I’ll walk you to your car.” The area was safe and the garage was monitored by cameras and security twenty-four/seven, but Steve wanted to  _ know _ that Bucky got into his car. He wouldn’t forgive himself if anything happened.

Bucky hit the elevator call button. “I took the bus. My bike kind of died.” 

“You have a motorcycle?” The idea of Bucky with a purring engine between his legs held more appeal than it should have. 

“No. Like a,” Bucky fidgeted and mumbled, “a bicycle. It got run over by a street cleaner a few weeks ago.”

Steve tried not to smile at Bucky’s embarrassment. He didn’t have anything to be embarrassed about and Steve wasn’t going to feed into that. “I’m taking you home,” he heard himself say and pursed his lips.  _ Doing a great job of keeping your distance _ , he thought. 

“You don’t have to do that,” Bucky said, but Steve waved him off. 

“It’s late. Wait there, I’ll grab my stuff.”

“I can take care of myself,” Bucky called after him, but he didn’t step onto the elevator when it dinged and the doors opened.

“I don’t doubt that,” Steve replied when he came back with his keys and his wallet, trying not to smile at the sour look on Bucky’s face, just shy of a pout, and his crossed arms. “I’m still taking you home.” 

The elevator opened when Steve pressed the button and he ushered Bucky inside. “Whatever,” Bucky grouched. Steve was feeling pleased with himself until he heard Bucky add softly, “Sir.”

Steve bit back a groan. Being cooped up in a car with Bucky was going to be the sweetest torture. 


	2. Chapter 2

Bucky was innocently sitting on the couch, writing a paper on game theory when something smacked him in the side of the head. He was trying his best not to think about what happened on Friday or that a certain alpha hadn’t been in the office today. It didn’t mean anything. Maybe the guy was just taking a three day weekend or something, despite being an admitted workaholic. It wasn’t because he was avoiding Bucky or anything. Nope. Because they were going to be adults, right? 

He tugged his earbuds free and glared at Sam who was walking past him toward the kitchen, back from a run. Probably getting one of those gross smoothies the beta liked to drink after a workout. “What the fuck, dude?”

“I called your name like four times.” Sam shrugged, disappearing through the doorway. His voice floated out from the adjacent room. “There’s a delivery for you on the porch.”

“You didn’t bring it in?” Bucky asked as he clambered off the couch from under his laptop and his pile of books.

“I’m not your butler, man.” 

“Don’t mind him. He’s in a bad mood cause he got a C on his stats test.” Darcy didn’t lift her head from where she was bent over her own laptop at the dining room table, curls exploding from her bun and black framed glasses perched on the tip of her nose. 

“Stop telling him my business,” Sam grouched when he walked back into the living room, glass of green sludge firmly in hand, glaring at his girlfriend. Darcy looked up long enough to stick her tongue out. Sam rolled his eyes, but leaned down to press a kiss to the top of her head and she smiled.

Bucky looked away and opened the front door, feeling as usual like he was intruding on their private moments. If it wasn’t for the fact that he couldn’t afford it, he would have gotten his own place a while ago, but apartments in D.C. were expensive and the dorms at school hadn’t been any better. He was lucky that Sam and Darcy let him stay here for next to nothing and the password to his Netflix account. 

He slipped outside, looking on the ground for a box, but he didn’t see anything. He was about to go inside and throw a highlighter at Sam’s head for making him waste his time when he caught sight of the bike sitting off to the side of the porch and frowned. 

That hadn’t been there before. He blinked thinking maybe it would disappear, but nope— there was a brand new, shiny bike right there. Where the hell had this come from? It wasn’t even in a box. It’d been assembled and then dropped off. It couldn’t actually be for him, but when he checked the tag dangling from the handle bar, it said  _ James Barnes  _ with his address. 

Huh. 

Crouched down in front of it, he ran his hands along the metal, warm to the touch from being in the sun. When he noticed the brand, he had to blink and make sure he was reading it correctly, but sure enough, he hadn’t hallucinated that someone had sent him a bike he wouldn’t have been able to afford in his wildest dreams. 

“Looks expensive,” Darcy drawled behind him and the only reason he didn’t jump was because after three years, he’d gotten used to her sneaking up on him. Leaning against the door frame, the type of curiosity that asked a question without having to say a word filling her expression as she scanned the— his, apparently— new bike. 

Bucky looked back at it and frowned. “Yeah. It is.” 

Bucky knew exactly  _ how _ expensive it was, too. After his old bike turned into a glorified lawn ornament, Bucky googled “best bikes” on a whim, which led him to one of those Buzzfeed articles and the Strutjumper had ranked number one. The thing was like… five grand. Bucky didn’t even know anyone who had that kind of money and the only person who knew his bike was broken except Sam and Darcy because there was no way he was telling him mom or his older sister was— 

Oh. 

Mr. Rogers.  _ Steve _ . Bucky had mentioned it during that disaster dinner. After the kiss which had been both the best thing in his life and the most embarrassing thing he’d ever done. Why the hell would Steve have done this? Was he trying to buy Bucky’s silence? That didn’t seem right from what he knew of Steve.  _ Like you know him so well after three seconds?  _

“Looks like somebody has a sugar daddy,” Darcy cackled behind him. When Bucky didn’t join in, she choked on the sound and tripped down the stairs. Eyes wide behind her glasses, she asked, “Wait,  _ do _ you have a sugar daddy? You’ve been holding out on me, you shit.”

Bucky barely felt the smack to his shoulder. Darcy’s shriek of, “Sam, Bucky got himself a sugar daddy and didn’t even tell us!” as she ran back inside became background noise along with the street traffic because, wait. Did he have a sugar daddy? The alpha gave him all that crap about not being able to do anything, a relationship would be inappropriate, blah, blah, blah, then he sends Bucky an expensive ass bike? 

The  _ fuck _ ? 

Bucky pushed to his feet, eyes narrowing in determination. The second he saw Steve he was getting some answers because if he did have a sugar daddy, which he was not above accepting, thank you very much, he was getting all the benefits. 

* * *

It was three days before Steve showed up at the office again. After some casual inquiries while delivering mail, he found out Steve was at some business meeting in California. Convenient, Mr. Rogers. Well played, sir. That was fine. Bucky could be patient if he needed to be. He bided his time and finally the light was on in Steve’s office when Bucky got off the elevator Friday morning. Some of the staff were already settled at their desks, but Bucky was the only intern in this early. It wasn’t an accident. He didn’t feel like fighting with the other interns over who got Steve his coffee.

He hadn’t understood when he started what the big deal was with getting some rich, asshole coffee. Even Ricky, an alpha who swore up and down he was straight, simped like the rest of them. Course that had been before Bucky saw the rich asshole’s bare chest. Definitely before he kissed the rich asshole who then bought him a bike that he rode to work today, feeling smug. Yeah, he was feeling a bit possessive now as dumb as that might be, but he kind of had a feeling it wasn’t that dumb after all. This was his best chance to have a conversation with Steve, put all their cards on the table. 

Bucky dropped his stuff on the floor by the intern desk, snagged Steve’s piled up mail from his slot, and went to the break room to pour Steve’s coffee, black with three sugars. The alpha was seated behind his desk, a pair of glasses perched on the end of his nose, bent over his laptop. It wasn’t fair. How did he manage to keep getting hotter? 

The alpha was typing with a furrow between his brow and didn’t look up when Bucky stopped in front of the desk until he set the mug down along with the pile of envelopes. He pulled his eyes from the screen, reaching for the mug with a tired smile. “Thanks. I forgot to grab a cup when I came in— Bucky. Hey.” 

Bucky meant to say hi back or ask if they could talk, but Steve Rogers tied his tongue up in knots and what came out was, “Are you my sugar daddy?” 

Steve choked on the sip he just took, eyes going wide. He swallowed hard, voice raspy when he hissed, “Jesus, Bucky,” and pushed to his feet. He reached the door in three long legged strides, expression stern when faced Bucky after closing the door. 

“There are some things you prefer to do in private,” he said under his breath in response to the silent reproach. 

Steve’s lips thinned. “I’m gonna let that slide.” 

The alpha was sitting behind his desk again and it made Bucky feel like a kid in the principal’s office. He crossed his arms over his chest and tucked his chin down, feeling young and stupid. It made him defensive which Bucky blamed for what came out of his mouth next. “You’re gonna let it slide? What would you do if you didn’t, Steve?” 

It was a ridiculous thing to say on so many levels. For one thing, Steve could make Bucky lose his internship and it was too late to find another one to graduate on time. But he  _ liked  _ Steve and he thought Steve liked him, too, at least enough to buy him presents. He just wanted the alpha to admit it. 

Someone must have been looking out for him, though, because Steve’s face softened a fraction and he sighed. “This is about the bike, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, Steve.” Mollified, Bucky dropped into one of the seats on the other side of the desk. “I mean, what the fuck?” 

“It was a bit much, wasn’t it?” he asked, abashed and adorable. 

“Well, yeah.”

Steve shrugged. “It’s not like I bought you a car.”

“It costs more than some people’s rent,” he started and stopped, eyes going wide, when Steve’s off handed comment registered. “Did you think about buying me a car?” 

Steve winced at the shrillness of Bucky’s voice, but he didn’t deny it. Bucky pointed an accusing finger the alpha’s way. “You  _ are _ my sugar daddy.”

“You needed something and I could get it for you. It doesn’t have to be a big deal—”

“No, no, no.” Bucky cut him off. He jumped up and rounded the desk. Steve's chair rolled back when Bucky nudged his shoulder. This close he could smell Steve, oranges and deep woods and a spice that sat on the back of his tongue. “You don’t get to do this again. Tell me it’s nothing and then next time you do buy me a car or a new coat or an apartment.” 

  
“Are you having problems with the friends you’re living with?” Steve asked, frowning up at him in concern. 

Bucky poked him in the chest, ignoring the urge to press his hands against the muscles he knew were hiding underneath the pristine button down shirt. “Stay on track. We’re talking ‘bout you and your fucking mixed signals.” 

One tawny brow lifted. “We really need to have a conversation about your language.” 

“Excuse me, I’m an adult. If I want to curse, I will.” 

“Would you talk to your parents like that?” Steve counters, amusement creeping into his voice. 

“Of course not,” Bucky scoffed. His mother would  _ kill  _ him. followed quickly by his grandma. And then his big sis. He was not an idiot. “I like living. Besides, you aren’t my dad.” He meant it flippantly, mainly because he didn’t have a dad and could barely remember ever having one, but that sounded like some crap dad's said, right? But it came out… not that. “I—uh. I mean,” he stammered. 

A hand, big and warm, landed on his hip. Bucky doesn’t know if Steve meant for his thumb to slide, just the tiniest bit, under the waistband of his pants. “I know what you meant.” 

It was good one of them did because Bucky wasn’t sure. His arms hung at his sides as he chewed on his bottom lip and stared down at Steve. This whatever it was with the alpha was different than anything Bucky had ever experienced. Steve was rich and successful and older, which if he were honest, was a bit of the appeal. They had a surprising amount in common, but Steve had his life together while Bucky was still figuring his shit out. The idea of having someone like that in his life was nicer than he would have thought. 

Steve sighed, a single swipe of his thumb, and Bucky was hyper focused on the alpha. “I’m sorry. I never meant to confuse you. I wanted to talk to you before you got my gift, but that business trip came up last minute. It was supposed to be a declaration, not a mixed signal.” 

“I accept your apology, but you could have sent me a text. Like, ‘Hey, remember all that bullshit I said the other night? Forget it. I like you. Don’t freak out when the crazy expensive thing shows up on your doorstep.’” 

Steve shook his head, but he gazed up at Bucky with a fondness that made him want to squirm, other hand rising to curl around Bucky’s opposite hip. “I don’t have your number.” 

“Oh. Right.” His shoulders dropped. They would definitely need to fix that, but there was something he needed to know before he got his hopes up. “What changed? You sounded sure you thought this was a bad idea.” 

“Us being in a relationship isn’t going to be easy.” Hearing Steve use the R-word made his heart skip a beat. “But I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” 

“I am an amazing kisser,” he said with a smirk. Deflection had always been his default setting. 

Steve snorted, tugging Bucky a step closer until he was standing between the alpha’s thighs. “Yeah, you are, sweetheart.” 

The way  _ sweetheart _ rolled off Steve’s tongue so smoothly. Like he’d been calling Bucky that forever. It was making him feel a little stupid. It would be so easy to sit in Steve’s lap. Bucky was tempted, but he resisted the urge. “It was more than that, though. It won’t be easy, but if you want to, I’d like to take you out.” 

“Like on a date?” He couldn’t keep the incredulity from painting his words. Steve could have anyone he wanted and he was asking Bucky on a date? Being his sugar baby was one thing, but that sounded more like—

_ A relationship, you dolt.  _

“On a date. Do you young people call it something different these days?” 

Bucky smacked his shoulder. “You’re not that old.” 

“Good to hear,” Steve laughed. “So, what do you say?”

“Depends.” Bucky shrugged and checked his nails. “Where’re’ya taking me?” 

“Anywhere you want.”

That got his attention. “Anywhere?”

“Within reason,” Steve amended and Bucky rolled his eyes. 

“No trip to Paris then, got it. How bout pizza and a movie?” It was low key, comfortable. Bucky didn’t want to go somewhere fancy and feel out of place. Steve was a Brooklyn boy just like him, though. Catching films at the tiny theater with only two screens and impressing your date by seeing how many snacks from the bodega on the corner you could sneak in because the concessions were always too expensive, was like a right of passage. 

“Sounds great, Buck. I’ll pick you up on Saturday? Around seven?”

“Cool.” He wanted nothing more than to luxuriate in Steve’s scent all day, but Bucky forced himself to take a step back. Walking backward to the door, he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “I should get back to it. The other interns will kill me if they think I’m slacking.” 

“Thanks for the coffee.” Bucky turned toward the door, hoping he could leave before Steve saw the pink tinging his cheeks. The alpha’s voice stopped him when his hand was on the door. “And Buck? Make sure I get your number before you leave.” 

The other interns kept asking what the hell was wrong with him because he couldn’t stop smiling the rest of the day. 

  
  


* * *

Bucky threw his phone down on the coffee table for the millionth time since getting home and went to get some cereal for dinner. The fact that he had Steve’s number was making his fingers itch to text the alpha. He curled up with his bowl and turned on something random from his Netflix list to distract himself. 

Sam and Darcy were at Darcy’s parent’s place for dinner and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow so he actually had the apartment to himself. He should be dancing around in his underwear, singing Britney Spears at the top of his lungs, but instead all he wanted to do was snuggle under his comforter and ask Steve what he was doing. 

He didn’t want to be the clingy, annoying omega, but Steve had given Bucky his number. That meant he wanted Bucky to use it, right? 

Fuck it. 

  
Steve wanted them to have a  _ relationship _ . That meant Bucky got to text him when he was bored. He grabbed his phone and typed a message before he could second guess himself.

Sugar Daddy  
  
sup?  
  


He pulled a face at the screen. What was he doing, texting one of his high school buddies? He was about to add something else when the three little dots appeared on the screen. It seemed like an eternity passed, watching them dance.

Sugar Daddy  
  
sup?  
  
Hey.  
  


Now the ball was in his court again. Bucky fell back across the couch with a groan. He should have come up with a plan. Sent Steve a picture to remind the alpha how cute he was. He wasn’t dating Steve for his money or anything, but it was a bonus. Steve was a catch. His bubbie would probably even like Steve and she didn’t like a lot of people. “Is he going to be a doctor?” had been the question she asked about all of his previous boyfriends. 

Not that Steve was his boyfriend. 

Or going to meet his family. 

His phone pinged again. 

Sugar Daddy  
  
What are you up to?  
  


Bucky looked at his empty cereal bowl and the ratty pajama pants and threadbare Brooklyn Prep Baseball t-shirt he was wearing.

Sugar Daddy  
  
roommates are out. binging bad TV  
  
Sounds nice. I'd rather be cuddling with you than going through these emails.  
  
you work too much but that does sound nice  
  


Bucky pursed his lips.  _ Eh _ , he thought,  _ the fuck do I have to lose?  _ Before he lost his nerve, Bucky typed, “You should come over,” and hit send. 

The little gray dots danced on his screen then disappeared and Bucky buried his face in the back of the couch, bemoaning his lack of impulse control. There was a difference between a guy wanting to buy you nice things and take you out and bumming around watching crap TV. They had a date soon. He was being greedy. 

Or…

Did Steve think it was a booty call? His head snapped up, eyes wide in dawning horror. Don’t get him wrong, he wanted to have sex with Steve  _ a lot _ . Had thought about it, about Steve whispering in that deep voice of his how good Bucky was being for him and, seriously, what the fuck was  _ that _ about? 

They made out once and Steve freaked out over the age thing and the pseudo-boss thing (Bucky wasn’t getting paid so he didn’t really think he could call Steve his  _ boss _ ). He did not think Steve was at the getting horizontal stage. Bucky didn’t want to chase the alpha away by being thirsty. 

Which, well, he was, but whatever. 

He gulped and was already typing out “I’m not asking you to Netflix and chill” when a text from Steve popped up. 

Sugar Daddy  
  
Give me about an hour to finish up?  
  


_ Fuck yes _ , he thought. What he typed was a completely proper, “sure thing” thinking about Steve’s comment about his language. He rolled his eyes at himself, but vaulted off the couch to grab some better looking lounge wear. He didn’t want to look like he was trying, but he also wanted to look cute. It was a hard line to straddle. 

He hadn’t dated anyone in forever. He and his last boyfriend broke up right before they both moved away for college. He didn’t know if he remembered how to do this and Steve had to have way more experience than him just from age alone. He assumed. This would be a good test run for The Date. The last thing Bucky wanted to do was embarrass himself in public. 

Bucky settled on a pair of gray joggers that hugged his ass and an t-shirt that hung low around his collarbones. He shoved all his blankets back in the closet, since letting Steve into anything resembling a nest was  _ not  _ on the agenda, brushed his teeth and his hair, and was just fixing the cushions when there was a knock at the door. 

“Hey,” he sighed, the beauty of this alpha hitting him all over again. The way Steve’s eyes took him in from the tips of his bare feet to the top of his head made Bucky’s chest warm. 

Steve blinked, pulling his gaze away from Bucky’s throat to meet Bucky’s eyes, and smiled. One hand wrapped around the back of his neck, Steve held a plastic bag aloft. “I brought snacks.” 

His grin was dopey, but there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. “I have the best sugar daddy,” he beamed up at Steve, stepping aside to let Steve in. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve murmured fondly. 

They settled on the couch, Bucky fitting perfectly under Steve’s arm. They ate junk food (Steve made Bucky drink water before he let Bucky open the bottle of Coke he brought, the jerk) and watched The Office, which Steve hadn’t ever seen (he’d obviously been living under a rock and Bucky needed to save him from himself). 

Bucky woke up to a featherlight touch against his cheek. He huffed in annoyance, but blinked open bleary eyes when it persisted.

“Come on, sweetheart. I should go. You need to sleep.” 

“But you’re so comfy.” Bucky snuggled more into Steve’s chest, pouting when Steve laughed and nudged him up. Steve’s expression was soft, light crinkles around his eyes. He pulled Bucky up with him when he stood. Bucky shuffled after the alpha to the door, hiding a yawn behind his hand. 

Bucky leaned against the open door, using it to help hold him up. He’d stayed up way too late last night finishing a paper and now it was catching up to him. Steve was right, damnit. He did need to sleep and it wasn’t exactly like Bucky could invite him to stay on the  _ couch _ . 

But he didn’t have to be happy about it. 

Steve stepped onto the porch, and Bucky might have thought that was it and shut the door, but Steve paused long enough to press a kiss to Bucky’s forehead. “Sleep well, sweetheart.” 

Oh.

_ Shit _ , he thought, watching Steve walk to his car.  _ I am so gone for this dude.  _


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both of the pizza places I mention in this chapter are real. I have never been to either of them. I picked two places at random that had pictures that looked like pizza I would eat lol so don’t take this as any negativity towards the establishments. It’s just a time honored tradition to fight about where the best pizza is xD

Dating Steve was weird. 

Cause that was definitely what they were doing. 

It wasn’t _ bad _ , it just wasn’t what Bucky expected. The first date, Steve picked him up, looking casual and hot in jeans and a t-shirt with a pair of boots and a baseball cap. He smiled when Bucky opened the door. 

“Hey, sweetheart.” Any worry Bucky had about being underdressed or feeling awkward melted away when Steve kissed him. It was barely more than a peck, but the alpha tucked a wayward strand of hair behind Bucky’s ear, fingers trailing down his cheek. “Sleep okay?” 

The couch smelled like Steve. He’d slept fucking amazing. He shrugged instead of admitting that out loud and said, “I guess.” 

Steve opened the car door. Steve took him to a movie revival at a small theater. They ate pizza after, at a hole in the wall place Bucky had never heard of. “Closest thing to pizza from home I could find.” 

“It’s not Front Street, but it’s okay,” he shrugged, snagging another slice off the tray. 

Steve barked out a laugh, earning glances from meat by patrons, and dropped his slice onto his plate. He’d flipped his hat backwards when they started eating, his sunglasses dangling from the neck of his shirt, giving Bucky a glimpse of the hair covering his chest. Like this Steve almost looked like a frat boy if not for the bits of barely there gray in his beard. Maybe  _ hot dad  _ was a better description. 

He almost choked on the food in his mouth at the thought and Steve slid his glass of water closer. “You eat that garbage?”

What had they been talking about? Oh yeah. “It’s the best place in Brooklyn,” Bucky said in affront. “Where else would I go?”

Forearms braced on the table, Steve leaned closer, eyes twinkling with mirth. The low cadence of his voice sent a shiver down Bucky’s spine when he teased, “Joe’s. Like any person with taste.” 

“Ha! Only if you like trash.” 

“Okay, fine. Next time we’re in Brooklyn, we’ll get a slice of both. See who’s right.” 

“Deal,” Bucky shot back, not thinking about the fact that they casually made plans for the future. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


They still hadn’t done anything besides kissing and heavy petting through clothes. It had been like two months. Any time Bucky tried to take it further, Steve held off. “Be patient.” 

Tonight, though, Bucky dry humped Steve’s thigh until he came during a particularly heavy make out session on the alpha’s couch. And Steve just let him do it, one big hand gripping his hip, the other tangled in his hair. 

Steve pressed kisses down his throat, whispering praises against his skin. “That’s it, pretty boy. You’re so good, sweetheart.” 

“Steve,” he whined, not sure if it was a warning or a plea for permission, chasing the alpha’s lips. 

“Go ahead.” Steve swallowed Bucky’s moan, hand sliding around to his ass, running along the seam of the denim between his cheeks. The friction on his dick plus that added pressure against his hole was all he needed. 

Bucky came in his pants, clinging to Steve while the alpha pet him and crooned. He didn’t let Bucky repay the favor, brushing off Bucky’s pouting. “You’re cute, but no. I’m fine.” 

Steve gave him clothes to change into, took him home despite Bucky’s protests that he could just stay (“Didn’t you say you had a paper due?” the alpha said calmly over Bucky’s groan.). He walked Bucky to the door, acting like Bucky was something precious that needed to be protected. 

They both ignored Darcy peering at them through the window, and Sam trying to drag her away. Bucky was pressed between Steve’s bulk and the wall beside the door, but he didn’t feel caged like he might have with someone else, just surrounded by the alpha’s presence. 

A kiss against his forehead had his eyes sliding shut. “I’ll see you in the morning.” 

“Maybe,” Bucky snorted. Steve was busy a lot, in and out of meetings, and while they agreed not to hide their relationship, they weren’t exactly rubbing it in people’s faces either. They agreed, but that didn’t mean some days Bucky didn’t want to play the boyfriend card— demand more of Steve’s attention than he already got. Which was, admittedly, a lot. 

Steve liked to pamper him. Bucky mentioned offhandedly that his pillow was going flat one night on the phone. The next day, an Amazon box showed up on the doorstep with a memory foam pillow and new pillow cases. 

“I want a sugar daddy,” Darcy griped from her spot on Sam’s lap in the oversized armchair. Steve was out of town, so Bucky ended up spending time with his friends for the first time in weeks. 

“You and me both,” Sam agreed. He told them both to shut up and hugged his new cloud to his face. 

“Then I’ll see you after.” Steve’s nose ran along his. “Don’t pout.” 

He pouted more. “You like it when I pout.” 

Steve chuckled and smacked a kiss against his lips. “I like everything about you. Now, finish your paper and make sure you get to sleep before 3 a.m. tonight.”

“Yes, sir,” he snarked, not able to completely bite back a laugh when Steve swatted at his ass when Bucky turned to open the door. “Night, Steve.” 

“Good night, sweetheart.” 

He took a shower before bed, folding Steve’s clothes up to put back on after, reliving what happened on the couch. He could hear Steve’s voice as he took himself in hand, as clear as if the alpha was standing behind him. 

Slick between his legs, he  _ pretended _ like Steve was there, telling him what to do. How to touch himself and where. “That’s it. Just like that.” 

He could almost feel Steve’s warmth at his back, smell his scent swirling in the steam. Hand braced against the wall, Bucky stroked fasted. “Please, please,” he begged the empty air.

“Good boy,” the Steve in his head growled. Bucky jerked, come painting the tile. 

“Fuck,” Bucky panted, letting the wall prop him up.  _ Good boy _ ? That’s what was doing it for him now? Bucky laughed weakly and poured shampoo in his hand. It could just be Steve, he mused, rinsing his hair. Bucky hadn’t ever liked pet names much before. Or being taken care of. 

Bucky was learning a lot of things about himself since meeting Steve, though. Now that he’d had a taste, Bucky was also done being patient. 

  
  


* * *

Bucky tried to ignore the stares when he walked off the elevator. His shorts were— a bit short, okay? He admitted that. Probably inappropriate for the office, but that was kind of the point. He blamed Darcy and too many margaritas for this plan. 

He might have had second thoughts when he woke up, but teasing Steve still seemed like a really good idea in the light of day Steve worked too damn much. Even when he laughed Bucky could see the tension around his eyes, in his shoulders. What better way to release stress than sex? 

He was being  _ altruistic _ . Steve took care of him. Bucky only wanted to return the favor. Him— hopefully— getting dicked into next Tuesday would be a bonus. 

And maybe another, tiny part of him wanted to see what Steve would  _ do _ . It sent a shiver down his spine. The way Steve looked at him sometimes when he thought Bucky wouldn’t notice—

Bucky let his bag slide off his shoulder and dropped into one of the empty office chairs, catching his lower lip between his teeth. 

It was like the alpha wanted to eat him alive.

He was so here for that. 

“You got a hot date tonight or something, Barnes?” Emma, another intern, was leaning over the top of the cubicle wall, eyebrows raised. The beta’s eyes were fixed on his legs before meeting his. 

“Something like that,” he answered, forcing a brazenness he didn’t altogether feel.

“Just don’t let Coulson or anyone from HR see you,” she huffed. “Come on. Help me get the mail.”

It was good advice. Luckily, they saw neither on the way. He got plenty of stares, including from Benny who ran the mailroom, but no one said anything. He realized he was putting his internship at risk. If he lost it, he would have to find another one and that pushed graduation back and all his plans. 

He just didn’t care. 

_ Steve won’t let it happen _ , a voice in the back of his mind whispered on the elevator back up, fidgeting with the mail in his hand. Bucky had been independent all his life, never let anyone take care of him, hadn’t wanted to be  _ that  _ omega. He hadn’t busted his ass for four years to turn into some pampered housewife. Maybe that was why everything was different with Steve— Bucky didn’t think Steve wanted him to be one either. 

Steve knew how important his education was, his goals for the future, and he always made sure Bucky didn’t lose sight of that even on the occasions when Bucky just wanted to revel in this thing with Steve. Which… well, maybe that was what was holding Steve back. 

Jokes on him cause Bucky could do both. He could date  _ and  _ graduate. 

Plus, it was nice to not have to worry all the time. Steve never let Bucky pay when they went out but he wasn’t a dick about it. He picked up the check or handed over his card without giving Bucky a chance to reach for his wallet, looking so stupidly happy that Bucky let him keep doing it. His bank account thanked him anyway. 

No one complained when he took Steve’s mail. It had turned into his thing. The other interns were intimidated by Steve, which Bucky thought was laughable. Yeah, he could be intense— an intensity Bucky wanted to be on the reviewing end of. All anyone else saw was the hyper focused workaholic. No one at the office ever saw the other side of Steve. Just Bucky and he wanted more of it. 

He made Steve’s coffee just the way the alpha liked it— black with three sugars like a weirdo, a fact Bucky pointed out more than once over the last few months— and headed for the office. He couldn’t help the extra sway to his hips, but he paused outside the door and licked his lips before walking in and shutting the door behind him. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m posting this way later than I meant. But that just means you get three chapters today! Well, two and an epilogue but still. 
> 
> Things get steamy here. That is your only warning lmao

“Here’s your coffee, Mr. Rogers.”

Blinking bleary eyes, Steve reached for the mug that was placed in front of him, a tired smile on his face for whoever had delivered it. He got to the office at four that morning after a run when he couldn’t sleep. The bed felt too empty without Bucky there and work was always something easy to bury himself into to distract himself from his problems.

His problem being he didn’t want to jeopardize his boyfriend’s future. If anyone found out about their relationship, he could end up losing his internship and besides the fact that he selfishly wanted to keep seeing Bucky everyday, he also didn’t want to derail his education. College wasn’t cheap and Steve wasn’t sure if Bucky would let him help with tuition if he offered.

He also didn’t want to scare Bucky away with how much he wanted him. He was scared that if he gave into his baser urges, he would grab onto Bucky and never let go.

Steve wanted to give Bucky the world. He wanted to take care of him, but he also knew Bucky didn’t need him to. It was maybe part of the appeal. But what happened when the novelty wore off and Bucky got tired of indulging Steve? Or when someone his own age came around?

Bucky joked about Steve being his Sugar Daddy and that wasn’t far off the mark. Back in college, Nat had dragged him to a BDSM club she liked to frequent, the same one her and Sharon had met. Nat was a switch, but she was picky about who she submitted to. Sharon respected that and her. Steve wanted what they had.

Even back then, when their friendship was new, Nat knew Steve better than he knew himself. Most of the hardcore stuff wasn’t for him. It had been overwhelming, but she steered him in the right direction. She taught him how to be a dom and his natural tendency toward caregiving had done everything else.

He’d had some casual relationships, but nothing lasted. It hadn’t ever felt right, not like it did with Bucky. Something clicked with the younger man and he jumped into this relationship without thinking of the logistics.

He questioned whether or not this had been a good idea after all. Usually he talked to Nat, but she might tell him he was being an idiot being led around by his knot. Or that he’d ignored his needs as a Dom for so long that he was falling for the first person who sparked the need after so many years without it.

His romantic life hadn’t been a priority. He stopped going to clubs when the business started getting off the ground. Natasha tried to set him up a few times, but that had been a disaster. Finding people with shared kinks on mainstream dating sites was next to impossible. Broaching it could go very wrong and he worried about Bucky’s reaction if he were honest.

He remembered Bucky saying “You aren’t my dad,” and wanting to say, “No, but I’d like to be something else.” He bit it back, but fantasies of Bucky moaning Daddy filled his dreams.

Heaving a sigh, Steve ran a hand across his face and took a sip from the mug. He missed Bucky. He would take the omega anyway he could get him. Even if it meant taking things slower than he wanted.

Speaking of his boyfriend, normally Bucky got him his coffee. Steve didn’t ask how the omega swung that every morning because he liked it. But Bucky didn’t call him Mr. Rogers, not since the first day they met. And whoever it was was still standing in front of his desk.

Brow furrowed in polite inquiry, Steve raised his head and almost choked on his tongue. His eyes ate up long legs left bare by a pair of shorts that were completely inappropriate for the office and the swath of skin between the open collar of a red button down.

“Bucky?” he asked, voice strangled. The pale column of the omega’s neck caught his attention before the younger man rounded the desk to perch on top of the filing cabinet.

“Yeah, Mr. Rogers?”

“What are you wearing?” And why do you keep calling me that, he thought but didn’t say.

Bucky glanced down at his clothes in confusion before meeting Steve’s stare. “You don’t like it?”

“That’s not the point.” He was trying to sound stern, but it was a losing battle when lust was clouding his judgement. Ripe peaches teased his nose, a scent Steve knew would get thicker the more turned on Bucky got. He wanted to bath in that scent, bury himself in it. His hands itched to touch, but he curled them against his thighs when he spun around to face the omega.

Bucky saw it. Of course he did. A smile curved his plush lips, chin tilted up as he looked at Steve in a way he would have almost described as challenging. “You do like it. Admit it.”

“Of course, I do,” Steve admitted somewhat reluctantly. Bucky was acting… well, with anyone else, Steve would have called it bratty. He sighed, pushing aside his own emotions for the moment and said, “But you know this isn’t appropriate. You could get in trouble.”

“What if I want to get in trouble,” Bucky shot back, a look in his eyes that Steve was familiar with, but never expected to see on Bucky’s face. He was brash and full of bravado, but Steve was starting to think he had missed a vulnerability hidden behind the front he put up for the world.

They had only known each other for a few months. There was still so much they needed to learn about each other. And Bucky might be an adult, as he liked to keep pointing out to Steve, but he was still young. Steve countered Bucky's challenge with, “Do you?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you want, Bucky?”

“I don’t know,” he shouted, jumping down from the filing cabinet. His chest heaved, eyes a little wild. “I don’t know what the hell I want anymore.” 

“Come here,” Steve ordered calmly and as soon as Bucky was within arms length, Steve tugged him into his lap. Bucky settled there like he’d been doing it forever, tucking his head under Steve’s chin. Bucky was leanly muscled and only a couple of inches shorter than Steve, but he felt small then. He stroked Bucky’s back until his breathing evened out and his scent lost the acrid tinge. Leaving one arm encircling the omega’s back, Steve let his other hand drift down to one bare thigh. “Want to tell me what this was all about? 

Bucky’s expression was petulant when he lifted his head. “I’m so horny I feel like I’m dying.” 

“No one’s ever died from blue balls.”

“Tell that to my dick.” 

“Sweetheart—”

“Please, Steve.” Bucky straddled his thighs, dates his shirt in his hands. They pressed together from chest to groin, the omega’s half hard dick rubbing against him making him throb behind his fly. “I can’t stop thinking about it, about you.”

The inside of Bucky’s thighs were warm when he gripped them, the shorts riding up even higher up his spread legs. He knew if he moved his hands higher, he would find the omega even hotter— and wet. He could smell it in the air. 

He wanted nothing more than to sink inside of Bucky and never leave, but there wasn’t time for that and this wasn’t the right place. “We don’t have much time. And you’ll have to be quiet.” 

Bucky groaned. “I can be good, I promise.” 

Steve nudged Bucky back, turning him around to lean over the filing cabinet he’d been sitting on. “Stay.” Steve gave the order with a stroke down Bucky’s spine. He arched into the touch, but kept his hands planted against the metal surface.  _ Good boy _ , Steve thought and went to close the door. 

He rolled up the sleeves of his button down on the way back and settled into his chair, letting his eyes run the length of Bucky’s legs. The way the fabric hugged the omega’s thighs was enough to make Steve feel like he needed to go to confession for the thoughts it put into his head and he hadn’t done that since he was a kid. 

He stared long enough that Bucky started to squirm. He glanced over his shoulder. “Steve?” 

“I got you,” Steve said, leaning forward to grip Bucky’s hips. “Sorry,” he murmured softly. “You’re just so beautiful.” 

Bucky huffed, letting his head drop. “Shut up. You’re looking at my ass.” 

“Your ass is beautiful, too.” He pressed a kiss to the ass in question and pulled back reluctantly. “If I do anything you don’t like, you say ‘stop’ and we stop.” 

“Fine,” Bucky groaned. “Whatever.”

The tap he gave to Bucky’s hip was more of a firm pat than a smack, but it got Bucky’s attention. He glanced at Steve over his shoulder again. “Anything you don’t like,” he repeated. 

“Say ‘stop’ and we stop. I got it. Now would you  _ please _ just fuck me?” he asked, bordering on a whine. “I’ve wanted you in me for months.” 

Steve shook his head. “No time for that. Plus, I don’t have any condoms.” That was not something he was going to budge on, for Bucky’s safety or his. Not until they both got tested and had a conversation about a lot more than a quickie in his office. “We’ll talk about this later, but for now I’m going to take care of you.” 

“Don’t know about the talking, but the taking care of me sounds good.” 

“Okay, then,” Steve chuckled. The scent of Bucky’s slick was making him dizzy. He didn’t think anyone had ever smelled this good. The sad excuse for shorts slid down shapely legs with little effort once Steve undid the felt and the zipper. The black fabric pooled around Bucky’s feet. Steve’s eyebrows climbed his forehead when he was met with Bucky’s bare ass. “Really?” 

  
  


“Laundry day?” 

Bucky was very good at feigning innocence, a fact Steve filed away for later. Steve swatted his ass without thinking. An apology jumped to his lips, but the words got strangled in his throat when Bucky moaned. 

They both froze. 

“Uuuuh,” Bucky mumbled. 

Huh. He circled the faint red mark with his thumb, dipping into the cleft of Bucky’s ass, spreading the moisture across his skin. He dragged his tongue across his bottom lip. “I thought you said you could stay quiet.” 

“I can,” Bucky rushed to say, like he was afraid Steve would stop. There wasn’t a chance of that happening. “You just surprised me.” 

“Good or bad?” 

“Good,” Bucky sighed. “That’s, uh, the first time that’s happened to me.” 

“Getting spanked or liking it,” Steve asked. It was an important distinction. 

“Both,” he admitted quietly. 

Steve didn’t stop touching him, but he did ask, “Do you want me to do it again, sweetheart?” 

Bucky nodded, starting to breath faster. His dick, pretty and flushed pink between his thighs, was hard and leaking. “Okay. Do you need help staying quiet?” 

He swallowed before answering. “Maybe?”

Steve wheeled his chair so he was beside Bucky instead of behind him. “I do—”

“Anything I don’t like and you stop. I got it.” 

Steve sighed. They could work on the finer points later. Bucky had a lot to learn if he was willing and Steve wanted to teach him. For now, Steve kept things as vanilla as he could while spanking his boyfriend in his office. 

“Open.” He tapped a finger against Bucky’s lips. Bucky staying as quiet as possible was practical. The last thing they needed was someone hearing, getting curious then seeing Bucky leave. 

The fact Bucky had worn clothes purposely to tempt Steve, here at the office, made him wonder if the possibility of getting caught might have been why he did it in the first place. But it was just that— the  _ possibility.  _ He didn’t think Bucky actually wanted to get caught and Steve sure as hell didn’t know any anyone else seeing the omega like this. 

Bucky hesitated, but his lips parted, and Steve slipped two fingers into his mouth. Bucky didn’t need to be prompted to suck. It made Steve wonder what it would feel like to have those lips wrapped around his dick. Another time for that—this was about Bucky. 

Well, sort of. It wasn’t exactly a chore to spank him. It wouldn’t be one to finger him until he came, either, which was what Steve planned to do next. 

He kept it light, but didn’t spank the same spot twice in a row, changing the intervals between. Moans muffled by his fingers filled his ears. A tongue laved the digits. 

Once Bucky’s backside was just turning red, Steve squeezed the plump swell. Spreading them apart with one hand, Steve pulled his fingers free of Bucky’s mouth, using them to circle the omega’s hole. “Remember to stay quiet for me, baby.” Bucky nodded. He was biting his lip when he looked at Steve over his shoulder. “Good boy.” 

Both fingers slid in easy. Bucky was tight but so, so wet. He tried to go slow. Tried, but Bucky wouldn’t let him, pushing back against the intrusion. He was panting, head thrown back, but he kept his sounds of pleasure to soft mewls. 

Steve set up a lazy rhythm, like he had all the time in the world. He waited until Bucky’s hands were fisted against the filing cabinet and his mewls became groans when Steve wouldn’t let him speed things up. 

“Please,” he whined. “Steve, come on. Please.” 

“Hmm?”

“You evil bastard—ugh” Bucky broke off with a grunt, arms collapsing from under him, leaving his cheek pressed against the filing cabinet. It had the added benefit of canting his hips up higher. 

Steve licked at Bucky’s rim where it stretched around his fingers. “I’ll give you what you want. Just promise me one thing.”

Head lolling, Bucky breathed, “Yeah.” 

He whispered in Bucky’s ear, lips brushing the delicate shell. “No more shorts in the office. My heart can’t take it.” 

“Mm.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Steve crooked his fingers downward, searching for the omega’s prostate. He yelped when the pads of Steve’s fingers pressed against it, clenching tight. Steve bit off a curse, feeling his dick twitch. Bucky made the sweetest sounds, took his fingers so well. He was on edge and it didn’t take long for Steve to have Bucky’s come dripping from his dick, hitting the filing cabinet and his shorts. 

“So good, sweetheart. You did so good,” he praised, arm draped over Bucky’s back, nuzzling his temple. Steve waited for his breathing to even out before urging Bucky toward the bathroom. His legs shook like a newborn fowl and he leaned most of his weight against Steve. He didn’t mind. 

Steve sat him down on the close toilet lid, washed his hands, and then wet the hand towel to wipe Bucky clean. The pants from the extra suit Steve kept in his office for emergencies were a little big on Bucky but a belt kept them from falling down. 

Besides the flush to his cheeks and some hair coming loose from his bun, you wouldn’t know Bucky had just had orgasmed. Steve made him drink a bottle of water before he let him stand up.

“I’m fine,” he insisted, halfheartedly batting at Steve’s hands. 

Steve walked Bucky to the door. Before it was unlocked. He pulled the younger man into his arms and pressed an— almost —chaste kiss to his lips. 

“What about you?” Bucky asked when Steve let him up for air. 

Steve didn’t pretend to not understand what Bucky meant. His erection was poking Bucky in the thigh. “I’ll be fine,” he promised with a smile. One last miss and Steve unlocked the door, pulling it open enough for Bucky to slip through. 

Steve indulged himself by watching Bucky walk back to one of the cubicles and disappear behind the wall. 

He glanced down at his dick when he turned to walk back to his desk and sighed. It was going to be a long day. 

* * *

Steve had back to back meetings the rest of the day. Bucky only caught glimpses of him striding through the office, looking powerful and in charge and he had to make a conscious effort to calm the fuck down. 

Something shifted in the office. Bucky felt raw. He wanted to curl up in Steve and never leave because he knew— he knew, somewhere deep inside— that Steve broke something open, but he could also put it back together. Whatever it was that was tugging at Bucky’s brain, Steve had the answers. 

_We’ll talk about this later,_ Steve had said.

Patience had never been Bucky’s strong suit. 

He spent his lunch break falling down a Google rabbit hole. By the time he threw his half eaten sandwich away, Bucky had more questions than he started with. 

The interns sat in on their first meeting (one Steve wasn’t at, ugh) and Bucky couldn’t have said what the hell anyone talked about. Not like he really cared all that much about this anyway. The only reason he got an internship at Shield was because all the engineering internships had filled by the time he got back after his grandfather’s funeral. He wasn’t religious, but he also wasn’t about to let his family sit shiva without him.

He was lucky his advisor had been able to get him into this internship and have it actually count. “I bent a few rules,” she had said, tucking one of the white strands in her auburn hair behind her ear, teasing, “but I don’t want to have to deal with you for another semester, Barnes.” 

At the time, Bucky had felt lucky, but also dreaded having to deal with an internship that wasn’t even in his field. He wouldn’t have met Steve otherwise, though. And that was something he didn’t want to contemplate. 

It was too easy to picture a future with Steve. 

He pulled his phone from his pocket, hiding it in his lap and sent Steve a text.

Sugar Daddy  
  
i’m coming over tonight?  
  


Steve was busy and it would probably be a while before he got an answer, but Bucky’s eyes were glued to the screen. Something was nagging at him, after trolling the internet for half an hour, looking at stuff he never would have gone looking for even a day ago. 

But that wasn’t true, was it? Ever since that first fantasy in the shower. Hell, since the Disaster Dinner the day he met Steve. Something was sitting on the back of his tongue, trying to get out, but he hadn’t understood. 

Still didn’t, not really. There was a list of questions a mile long he wanted to ask Steve sitting in a note on his phone. 

He glanced around, like someone was going to be looking over his shoulder and catch him, then clicked edit on Steve’s contact on his phone. 

Just to try it out. If he didn’t like it, no harm, no foul. He could just change it back. He shoved his phone back in his pocket and went back to work. 

It hit him like a punch to the gut when he slipped his phone out of his pocket a few hours later after washing his hands in the bathroom and saw Steve’s text. He was glad no one else was there because he caught his reflection in the mirror and… 

His eyes were heavy, a soft smile curving his lips. Okay, yeah. 

  
He _definitely_ liked it.

Daddy  
  
i’m coming over tonight?  
Meet me at my car after work. I’ll run you by your place to grab your stuff.  
  


What a way to find out you had kinks you never knew about. He could only hope Steve was into it, too. 

Though something told him he really didn’t have to worry about that.


	5. Chapter 5

Steve rang the doorbell then wrapped an arm around Bucky’s shoulders before pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Relax.” 

“I’m basically meeting your family tonight.” Mouth flat, he met Steve’s eyes. “Relaxing is not going to happen.” 

“They’re going to love you,” Steve tried reassuring for the millionth time that night. Bucky snorted. He was stopped from saying anything else by the door opening. 

Sharon was dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt, hair in a ponytail. She smiled and pulled him into a hug. “Hey there, stranger.” Wood smoke and caramel filled his nose and he hugged her right. Why had he stayed away so long? 

“You must be Bucky,” she said after she let Steve go. 

“Yeah, hi, nice to meet you.” He shook Sharon’s proffered hand. His hair was down and he tucked it behind his ear, leaning into Steve’s side. 

“Dinner’s almost ready.” She stepped back to lead them inside. “You two want anything to drink? We have just about everything. I got that beer you like, Steve.” 

“Thanks. Bucky?” 

“Wine, I guess. Whatever kind. I’m not picky.” Steve gave him a questioning glance as he slipped past him to the loveseat. 

“Only one glass until dinner. You missed lunch.” 

_You worry too much_ , Bucky’s exaggerated eye roll said and Steve smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to the omega’s forehead. “Be a good boy.” 

Bucky shivered like Steve knew he would and pouted up at him. “Fuck off. I don’t need to pop a boner right now.” 

“Watch the language, sweetheart.” Bucky stuck his tongue out at him. Steve shook his head and went to get their drinks that Sharon left on the island while she finished making dinner. 

The last month had been interesting, to say the least. 

After the incident in his office, Bucky told him he’d been looking things up on the internet and thought he might be a sub. Steve told him he hadn’t been involved in a BDSM relationship in years, but he was a caregiver Dom. 

“Makes sense. What with all the things you buy me and the making sure I eat. Guess you’re not just my sugar daddy,” Bucky said from his position sprawled across Steve’s lap. 

“No, but if you want to call me that still, you can.” 

“Shouldn’t I be calling you _sir_ or something?”

Steve’s lips quirked. Sir was not what Steve hoped Bucky started calling him one day. “I’m not that formal, but you can if you want.” 

Bucky hummed, noncommittal. “Can we have sex now?” 

“We’re not done talking,” he said and Bucky groaned. They had a long conversation about kinks and limits and safewords. 

Bucky picked _baseball_ because, “I can’t really think of a reason I’d talk about baseball during sex.” He sat up to eye Steve’s crotch. “Unless I’m talking about the bat you’ve got in your pants.” 

“Brat,” he said with a tap to Bucky’s nose. Bucky snapped at his finger, but he didn’t actually try to bite him. 

“Maybe,” he said. 

Bucky wanted to barrel head first into everything, but Steve made them take things slow. He laid the omega out across his bed later that night and stretched him open slowly, until Bucky was begging. He was so pretty when he begged. 

He gave a broken moan when Steve finally slid inside of him. “Please, please. Steve, please, I need—”

“What, sweetheart?” 

“I need to come. Can I? Please let me.” 

“Yeah, baby.” Steve nipped at his chin, down his neck, pressing his words against Bucky’s skin. He slid his hand between their bodies, taking Bucky’s dick in his hand, stroking him in time with his thrust. “Do you want me to knot you?”

“Yes,” he moaned, the word drawn out, head thrown back as he spilled over his stomach and Steve’s hand. Steve wasn't far behind. His teeth dug into Bucky’s shoulder when he felt his knot expand, Bucky’s hole tight and wet around him. 

Steve rolled them over until Bucky was sprawled on top of him, eyes closed, but Steve knew he wasn’t asleep. He let his own eyes drift shut, stroking the length of the omega’s spine. He felt Bucky sigh and raise one limp hand. He patted Steve’s chest. “Good job. That was worth the wait.” 

Steve swatted his ass and Bucky yelped. He clenched eventighter and Steve grunted. “Don’t,” Bucky complained, face buried in Steve’s chest. “I can’t come again yet.” 

Steve proved that was a lie.

He was happier than he could ever remember being and it wasn’t just the sex. Bucky kept him on his toes. He made him laugh. He was stepping away from work more. His CFO asked what the fuck was up with him last week. Steve didn’t know how to answer Fury. The older man stared at him with his one good eye, snorted, and left his office. 

He looked forward to coming home at night because he knew Bucky would be there. There was an extra key burning a hole in his pocket. He was just waiting for the right time to bring up moving in together.

He picked up his bottle and Bucky’s glass of wine. “Where’s Nat?” 

“Client called. She’s in the office.” She took a pot of pasta to the sink to drain. “She’ll be out in a minute.” 

Nat’s fees were astronomical, but her clients could afford it. It also meant she sometimes it had to take calls when she was out of the office. He took a pull of his bottle. “How’s work been?” 

“No one’s died,” she tossed over her shoulder. 

“You and Nat are perfect for each other,” he deadpanned. 

She laughed and pulled a bag of salad out of the fridge. He walked the short distance to hand Bucky his wine. 

“So how long have you guys been dating? Natasha didn’t say.” 

Her tone was too casual. She avoided his suspicious stare. “A few months.”

“When exactly was your first date, though?” She dumped the pasta into the sauce, shrugging her shoulders when she added, “Just curious.” 

“Couple weeks after we met. I was out of town for a few days before that.” 

“Technically, you could consider our first date the day we met,” Bucky offered, unhelpfully. Steve gave him a look which Bucky purposely ignored. “I mean, you asked me to eat dinner, which you paid for, we kissed, then you drove me home.” 

“Yes,” Sharon exclaimed and pumped her fist. 

“What did you do?” he asked at the same time Nat walked into the living room and asked, “What’s going on?” 

Sharon gave her mate the biggest shit eating grin. “You’re doing dishes for the next three months that’s what.” 

“Really, Steve? You couldn’t have waited a week?” Her glare was truly frightening. “I overestimated your impulse control.” 

Bucky appeared at his side. “Did your friends bet on when we’d hook up?” 

“Looks like it.”

“That happen often?” 

“Yup.”

Bucky smirked. “Forget about me being nervous. I think tonight is going to be great.” 

“Bucky,” Steve warned. “Behave.” 

He widened his eyes. “I always behave.” 

At dinner, Bucky asked Sharon and Nat to tell him every embarrassing story about Steve that they knew. And they knew a lot. 

When they got home Steve edged Bucky until he cried. Between his fingers and his tongue, Bucky was a wrung out mess when Steve finally rolled on a condom and pushed into Bucky. 

The room echoed with sounds of skin against skin and panting breaths. They came together, but not because Steve was trying. He didn’t have enough brain cells left working to plan that. Bucky grunted when Steve collapsed on top of him, but otherwise didn’t comment. 

Steve stroked Bucky’s arms, not able to stop touching him, and tried to get his breathing back to normal.

What also wasn’t planned was when Steve said, “We should move in together.” 

  
  


*****

“You didn’t have to help me move.” 

“Man, you have like no possessions. It’s not a big deal,” Sam responded. 

It was true, but still. “Thanks, anyway.” 

“No problem. You’ll just have to repay the favor if I ever move and Prince Charming hasn’t whisked you off to some far flung place.” Bucky punched him in the shoulder and unlocked the door. His friend followed him into Steve’s apartment, dropping the cardboard box he was carrying by the door. “Where is he anyway?”

“Work.” Bucky set his own box down on the kitchen island. He’d figure out where it was going to go later. 

“On a Saturday?” 

  
“Something came up,” Bucky said, but didn’t tell him that the ‘something’ was that Steve missed work on Tuesday after Bucky woke him up with a blow job and pouted when Steve tried to get out of bed. 

Sam hummed, moving farther into the apartment to look around. He let out a whistle. “This is some nice shit.” 

“I think his best friend decorated it and Steve just kind of… let her.” Having gotten to know the alpha better, Bucky didn’t blame his boyfriend for just going along with it. The art, though. That was all Steve. Bucky found out how into art Steve was by accident after catching the alpha sketching him when he thought Bucky was asleep. The sketch was framed in the bedroom now. 

“Hey,” Sam caught his arm, waiting for Bucky to look at him before continuing, “you’re… good, right?” 

“What? Yeah, yeah. I’m great, actually.” Bucky didn’t really think it was possible to _be_ this happy. He was resisting the urge to text Steve already and it was only like noon. 

“Good. Cause I know we’ve all been joking about you having a sugar daddy and all, but,” Sam shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “You know if he ever fucks up, I’ll help you hide the body.”

“Aww, Sam. That’s so sweet. I didn’t know you cared that much,” Bucky teased. It meant a lot, though, that his friend cared so much. He approached Sam with a grin, holding out his arms to give the beta a hug. 

“Fuck you. You’re annoying.” Sam evaded his attempts. “Just no one is allowed to mess with you but me.” 

“Thanks, dude.” 

“Whatever. Now, I think a promise of pizza and beer was made?”

*

The first time Bucky called him daddy was two weeks after the omega moved in. Steve had to go out of town and Bucky asked if it was okay if Sam and Darcy came over while Steve was gone.

Steve kissed his cheek before going to grab some more stuff from the closet. “It’s your place. You don’t need to ask me to have your friends over.” 

“No, I mean I know I live here, but I just wanted to—”

“Bucky,” Steve stopped packing and gripped his shoulders, “this is your apartment. You don’t just live here.” 

“Okay,” he said, but he didn’t sound like he believed Steve. Steve let it drop for the time being. They had time. 

Steve finished packing and zipped up his duffle. Bucky was sitting on the edge of the bed and Steve moved to stand between his thighs. “I left money for you in the kitchen, next to the coffee maker, and if you need anything you let me know.” 

“Thanks, Daddy.” 

Steve had bent to press a kiss to Bucky’s quirked lips, but paused when the words registered. “What did you say?”

“I said ‘thanks’. Your hearing okay, old man?” 

Steve didn’t respond to the teasing and Bucky’s smile slipped. Steve shook his head and tried to ignore the words banging around in his head while he kissed Bucky goodbye. “Sorry, I thought I heard something else.” 

Bucky made a face, but he followed Steve to the door without mentioning it again and pulled him into another kiss before Steve walked through the door. “I’ll miss you.” 

“I’ll call you when I get in and every night until I get back. I might not be able to answer right away, but you can text me okay?” 

“‘kay. Now go, before you miss your flight.” 

The second time Bucky called him daddy, Steve poked his head in the bedroom where Bucky was working on his laptop. “Dinner’s ready.” 

“Be there in a minute, Daddy,” he said, brow furrowed, not looking up from what he was typing. His distraction meant he didn’t see Steve’s double take. 

The first time, Steve brushed it off as a fluke or maybe just a joke. Bucky had done that before, joking about how Steve wasn’t his dad when he suggested skipping the second glass of wine or told him he cursed too much. Maybe he just misspoke. It was a slip of the tongue saying ‘daddy’ instead of ‘dad’.

Steve had tried to rationalize it every which way. Once was a coincidence, twice was something else. It still seemed he did it subconsciously, though. 

The third time Bucky called Steve daddy, they were having sex and without thinking Steve asked, “You want Daddy’s knot, baby?”

He moaned, bucking up into Steve’s next thrust, but didn’t answer. 

“Come on, baby,” Steve urged, pinning Bucky’s hips to the bed. Steve pushed in until he bottomed out and stayed there. “Tell me what you want.” 

Hazy blue eyes cracked open. “Daddy, please.” 

Steve felt like something snapped, hearing those words. He practically folded Bucky in half, pounding into his hole, the wet squelch of slick filling his ears. He sucked a mark into Bucky’s bared neck, whispered all the filthy things he wanted to do to him into his ear. 

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,” Bucky chanted, over and over, like a dam had been broken. His hands fisted in the sheets. His voice was hoarse when he came, semen running down his chest. Steve gave one last hard thrust, punching through the tight clench of the omega’s hole, release filling the condom. 

Steve sat back on his heels with effort, looking where Bucky stretched around his knot. He ran a finger around the distended skin. Bucky stuttered a moan, milking another wave of release from Steve. 

“That’s my good boy.”   
  


Bucky’s smile was sleepy and sated. “Shut up and kiss me.”    
  


What kind of daddy would he be to refuse? 


	6. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Update:** It was brought to my attention that Google lied to me, so this has therefore been edited. Sorry about the mistake and thanks to the commenter that let me know!

“I hate this.” Bucky pouted, arms crossed over his chest, and sank further into the couch. “I’m turning it down.” 

“Don’t you dare,” Steve said from the kitchen. He emerged, two plates in his hands which he set down on the coffee table before taking a seat next to Bucky. “This is an amazing opportunity for you.” 

He normally would have snuggled into Steve’s lap, but that would have made him feel better and he wanted to stay upset. It was six months after graduation and after numerous interviews for publications across the country, Bucky was offered his dream job. 

Except now he didn’t want it. 

Well, he  _ did _ , but it would mean leaving Steve and that he definitely didn’t want to do. 

Steve put one hand on his knee, giving it a squeeze, and Bucky knew there would be a smile on Steve’s face— the one he got when he thought Bucky was being ridiculous but didn’t want to say it. Steve was the ridiculous one and  _ apparently _ didn’t have an issue with them being hundreds of miles apart. He let his head loll to the side and glared. 

“It’s only New York,” Steve said, perfectly rational. “You’ve always wanted to work for Stark International since you started college. They’re doing a lot of good things lately and even if you don’t stay there long term, it’ll look amazing on your resume. You can’t pass this up.” 

Bucky transferred his glare to the window overlooking the D.C. skyline. He knew Steve was right, which just made it worse. 

“Besides, I still haven’t bought you a car.” 

He groaned and fell against Steve’s side, melting into the alpha when the other man wrapped an arm around him. He kept putting Steve off about the car thing, but, honestly, if he did wind up back in Brooklyn, having a way to get to Steve faster would be worth giving in. “I’d have to move in with my mom.”

“You like your mom.”

“Yes, I do. But having phone sex with you would be hard with a very thin wall separating our bedrooms,” he managed to say with a straight face. 

“I could rent you—”

“Stop.” He looked at Steve, glaring at his upside down face. That was going too far, even for him. “You’re already paying rent on this place. You’re not getting me an apartment  _ and  _ a car.” 

“So, you’re letting me get you a car?” 

“Daddy,” he whined, hiding his face in Steve’s chest. 

Steve chuckled and pulled Bucky up until he had to meet the alpha’s eyes. “If you decide to take the job, we’ll figure it out. Even if you have to be a good boy and stay quiet when I tell you to come.” 

“I could do that,” Bucky breathed. He’d be so good. The best. Just like his daddy liked. Though sometimes he liked not being good, but where was the fun in that when Steve wasn’t there to bend him over the closest horizontal surface and turn his ass red? 

He kissed Steve then because he had to. He wound up straddling Steve’s thighs—seemed to happen a lot when they were on this couch. He was going to miss this during the week. And, aw fuck, he was going to take the job, wasn’t he?

Steve’s hands gripped his ass, guiding his hips into a gentle roll. It was too slow and he whined. “Shh, sweetheart. Just be patient.” 

“I hate you.” 

“No, you don’t.” No, he didn’t, but Steve didn’t have to sound so smug about it. “Be good for me and I’ll make it worth the wait.” 

The thing was, Bucky knew Steve could. No lie, if he didn’t love Steve so much, the sex alone would have had Bucky staying with him. At least for a while. But he  _ did _ love him. So much it scared him sometime. 

He trusted Steve more than he trusted almost anyone else, though. He also knew Steve loved him. If he said they would be fine doing a long distance thing, then maybe they would. Bucky wasn’t joking about the phone sexy thing either. Just thinking about Steve crooning in his ear, while he shoved a dildo in his own ass, praising him—

He whimpered and clung to Steve tighter. His pants were getting uncomfortable in more ways than one. 

Steve cocked an eyebrow when he started squirming. “Where’s your head at, baby boy?” 

He chewed on his lower lip. “Thinking about you calling to tuck me in at night, daddy.” 

“See?” Steve trailed nipping kisses up his neck. “It’ll be okay. I’ll call you every night.” 

He was so horny, but he needed to hear the words. “Promise?”

“I promise, sweetheart.” The alpha’s nose brushed his then their lips met softly. Desire was still simmering low in his belly, but it was banked like low burning coals. The need to be close to Steve was more important. 

Big, strong hands caressed him lazily. They traded slow kisses, sharing breath. 

Steve’s phone ringing was like a bomb going off. Bucky groaned, falling dramatically off Steve’s lap so he could get up and retrieve it from the kitchen island. Bucky listened half heartedly to the one sided conversation, pulling his own phone out to scroll through Facebook. 

He keyed back in when Steve said, “Uh, wow. I’m not sure what to say.” He flipped on his side and saw Steve lean against the island, wide eyes cutting to Bucky for a second before flirting away. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Steve look so… unsure. “I never really thought about it. But I’m flattered.” 

“What?” Bucky mouthed. Steve held up a finger and he huffed. 

“Yeah. I’ll, uh, give it some thought. I promise.” The person on the other end must have been talking because Steve fell silent, blinking at the hardwood. “We’ll talk in a few days. Okay, bye.” 

“What’s going on,” Bucky asked as soon as Steve set his cell down. 

“They want me to run for office.”

He sat up on the couch. “Who? What office?”

“The Democratic Party.” Steve lifted his eyes and met Bucky’s. “They wanted to know if I had any plans of ever moving back to New York. I guess someone saw me speaking at a few conferences last year and that meeting I had the night we met.” 

“What? Seriously?” His eyes went wide and he sat up on his knees. “That’s… that’s huge. Are you gonna do it?” 

“I don’t know. I never really thought about going into politics.” Steve sat next to him and propped his elbows on his knees. Bucky draped himself over the alpha’s back and Steve lifted a hand to grip his forearm, turning a wan smile at him. “I’d have to establish residency first.” 

“I think you’d be good at it. You’re good at everything else.” 

Steve snorted. “This is different. And your vote of confidence wouldn’t have anything to do with wanting me in the same state, would it?” 

“I haven’t even decided if I’m taking the job yet,” he said breezily.

“Uh-huh.” Steve was on to him, he always knew when Bucky was deflecting, but he let it drop. It wouldn’t be fair to push Steve into something he didn’t want to do just so Bucky didn’t have to move away from him. “If I  _ do _ decide to run, I’d have to step down at Shield, at least temporarily.”

“What, why?” 

“If Shield won any government contracts, it could be seen as a conflict of interest if I profited from it as the CEO.” 

Oh. Well, that made sense. It still sucked. Steve had started that company from nothing. 

“It also depends on you.” 

“Me?”

“People would know everything about us. Our privacy would be invaded. This isn’t just my decision.”

“Well,” Bucky mused. “I don’t know if they’d know  _ everything  _ about us. Unless I accidentally call you ‘daddy’ in public.” 

“You little shit.” Steve wrestled him down to the couch and pinned his hands above his head. Bucky grinned up at him. Steve shook his head. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” It was as easy to say it now as breathing. “If you decide you want to do this, we’ll figure it out.” 

“I see what you did there.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” 

“Mhmm,” Steve hummed. “No decision yet, but yeah. We’ll figure it out together.” 

“Think I’d be able to come blow you in your office, Mr. Senator? Or no?”

“Oh, hush,” Steve shushed him, but they were both laughing when Steve kissed him again. 


End file.
